Bagged
by SophieRomanoff
Summary: When Black Widow and Hawkeye are on a mission, the man who captured them talks about a man who wants Natasha. He is from her past in the Red Room and Natasha freezes. Will she be pulled out of her head in time to fight or will her past consume her?


Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed the first fic. If you haven't seen it it's on my page. It's called 'On Your Knees' and may not be the best but it's just the start. Enjoy!

BAGGED

Black Widow and Hawkeye sat side by side, their wrists bound to each other's with some sort of flex cuff. They had brown sacks over their heads, tied around their necks with rope.

Whilst the rope was tight, it wasn't enough to stop their air. That was their captors' first mistake.

The second was placing them together, even having their hands together! It meant they could communicate through drawing letters on their partner's palms.

The third was thinking a bag over their heads would limit their strengths and ability to fight. Clint's hearing may not have been the best but Natasha's was astute, she could hear their captors' hushed voices from across the room. Natasha didn't have the best sense of smell but Clint's ability to smell was powerful. Even if it was a little strange at times. It drove Phil crazy at times. Especially when Clint would make a comment about him smelling like a woman. Phil's face would get red and he would splutter a few expletives before clocking him around the ear and walking out.

Fourth was them thinking the two agents weren't exactly where they wanted to be.

Without the use of their vision, they honed into the other skills, and silently came up with a plan.

They were in an abandoned factory in the middle of Germany, tasked to take down the leader of a drug cartel and human smuggling ring. It was an average mission, a few fights, no injuries. Then Natasha and Clint had been 'spotted' and apprehended.

That had all been part of the plan. Get captured and the workers would lead them straight to the leader. The bags had been unexpected but didn't deter either agent.

They heard footsteps coming towards them and Natasha halted in her word drawing, tilting her head up to where she imagined the mans face to be.

"So this is fun." Natasha spoke, her voice slightly muffled by the fabric of the bag.

Clint hummed. "It's certainly an adventure, eh Tash?"

"Shut up." Came the harsh voice, a hand winding its way away Natasha's throat, squeezing as he lifted her slightly. Clint's arms came with her and he winced at the pull on his shoulders.

Natasha didn't panic as her air was cut off, just went limp in his grip to make it more difficult for him to hold her up.

After a few seconds the man, a native German called Hans Herman, let her go and she hit the concrete silently.

As she caught her breath, Clint spoke. "So now what? You gonna torture us? Get information out of us?" His tone was joking, unafraid and cocky.

"Oh no, of course I'm not." Hans chuckled, his accent sounding nearly completely Americanised.

"I'm going to kill you. Well, I'm going to kill one of you." He sneered, "the other is going to be given to someone else. Can you guess which one?"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "I'm thinking that privilege falls to me." She spoke, her voice a little scratchy.

"So you're not as stupid as you seem." Hans chuckled. "Yes, little spider, I have someone in Russia just waiting for you."

Natasha stiffened slightly and Clint grabbed her fingers, silently telling her to stay calm.

Shield hadn't mentioned anything about this man being connected to Russia. Of course they hadn't. Surely Coulson wouldn't have let this go ahead had he known?

"I know you have a lot of enemies in your home country, Natalia. Don't worry; I'm sure Dimitri will make sure they don't get to you. He wants you all to himself." Hans purred.

Natasha's ears rang and her chest felt tighter. She said nothing.

Dimitri. She had killed him. Hadn't she?

"I'm getting paid an awful lot for you, Natalia. You on the other hand, Hawk, no one wants you. I get to play."

"No one wants me? Story of my life." Clint laughed, his fingers tight on Natasha's.

"The time has come to say goodbye." Hans snapped his fingers.

Suddenly two pairs of hands were reaching down to the agents, a knife sliding through the bindings that connected them, pulling them apart.

Natasha was still silent and Clint could feel his heart racing. Was she okay? Regressing back into her memories was NOT an option right now. They had to get out of here.

Calling on the plan they had made, Clint lashed out at the person holding him. Even with cuffs around his wrists and a bag over his head, he was a force to be reckoned with.

He had no idea if Natasha was with him at the moment, whether she was lost in her head and up for fighting. So once his guard was down, he headed where his nose took him.

The smell of baby powder, sweat, and a sweet perfume helped him find Natasha and he reached for the scent of gun powder and dust. Before he grabbed the other man, he heard Natasha start.

His partner was fighting.

He breathed a soft sigh of relief and went after Hans.

In a matter of a minute the fight was over.

Clint could hear Natasha's shuddering breaths and he reached for her.

The feel of cold metal touched his wrist and he froze, trusting her. If she had regressed, she could kill him with one stroke. He would not fight back.

Instead, he felt the bindings snapping as Natasha slid the knife through them.

Clint stretched his fingers out and untied the rope around his neck, yanking the bag off his head. For the first time in a few hours he could see. The room was dark but he could see the bodies on the floor and the blood surrounding them.

Then he saw Natasha, her head still obscured by her bag, her hands holding the knife like she didn't know what to do.

He stepped forward and silently undid her rope and pulled the bag off. She didn't struggle.

Her neck was covered in dark bruises that made Clint inhale.

Clint took the knife from her and slid it into his belt, taking her shoulder in one hand and pushing her red locks out of her eyes with the other.

"Tasha, say something." He said quietly, worriedly, trying to catch her gaze.

Widow slowly looked up from the body of Hans, blinking rapidly.

He could see that her eyes were unfocused and glazed over.

"Tell me where we are, who you are and who I am." He said softly, trying to pull her back to him.

She spoke slowly, obviously thinking hard about her answers.

"We are…we're in Germany." She frowned, looking right at him.

"Yes, we are. Where are we not?" He asked gently, his hand brushing against her shoulder.

"We are not in Russia. This is not the Red Room." She murmured, suddenly desperate to touch him. She put her hand on his neck, thumb rubbing over the faint bruises from the rope.

"Good." He nodded, not belittling her, just reminding her. "Second question?"

"I am Natasha…Natasha Romanoff, I am the Black Widow." She said quietly, seeming to come more into herself with each word.

"Who are you not?" Clint asked quietly, stroking her cheek and tucking hair behind her ear.

"I am not Nat…Natalia. I am not the Red Room's puppet." She let out a soft breath, closing her eyes for a moment.

"Tasha, don't, eyes on me." He said gently but firmly, his thumb running over her cheekbone. "Third question?"

Her eyelids fluttered open and her eyes were more focused, more Natasha.

"You are Clint Barton. Hawkeye. My boyfriend." She smiled faintly at that and Clint smiled widely back, nodding. "Who am I not?"

"You are not Dimitri or Madame. You are not a mark. You are not an agent of the Red Room." Her words were surer now.

"Natasha?" Clint asked softly and the woman nodded.

"I'm here."

Clint put a hand on the back of her head and pulled her to his chest.

"You're here. I'm here. You are not there." He murmured, stroking down her shoulder blades.

"Thank you." Natasha breathed, closing her eyes and allowing herself to sink against him for a moment.

"It's what I do." He grinned, pulling back.

"No really." Natasha said seriously and Clint's smile dropped.

"I mean it, thank you." She said quietly and Clint just nodded, sliding his fingers into hers.

"Let's go home, Nat."


End file.
